


complicated with melancholy

by nefertiti



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, Consent Issues, Depression, M/M, Manic Episode, mentions of - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 22:58:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nefertiti/pseuds/nefertiti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tried to calm down; to stop fidgeting, to stop feeling like the world around him was ready to fall off its axis, and he was the only one tumbling down with it. It didn’t work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	complicated with melancholy

It was right after a meeting. Grantaire was in his flat trying to quell the oncoming episode. He knew all the signs. His skin itched and he couldn’t stop moving. He felt like if he stood still, even for a minute, he would explode. He would scream or cry or tear off his skin, or something even more melodramatic.

 

So he walked around his flat, quickly, his fingers shaking. Occasionally he would stop for five seconds and pick up a book, or open his laptop and bounce in front of the screen before shutting it harshly, or he would dig his nails into his flesh just to feel something that wasn’t this tightly wound anxiety that made him feel so out of control.

 

 He got this way sometimes, and he knew what happened when he got this way. It ended up with him naked in some random stranger’s bedroom, or passed out in an alleyway, or if he was lucky, safe in a jail cell.

 

So he tried to calm down; to stop fidgeting, to stop feeling like the world around him was ready to fall off its axis, and he was the only one tumbling down with it.

 

It didn’t work.

 

 It never worked.

 

Risperdal. Depakote. Lexapro. Lithium.

 

Nothing ever worked.

 

Nothing.

 

Nothing.

 

 _Nothing_ .

 

So he needed to do everything.

* * *

 

If you sat him down and asked him, he wouldn’t be able to tell you how he got to the broke down bar he was currently dancing on top of. What he could remember was that there was something.  Something painful or maybe not painful, just worrying, or maybe it was something he should be doing, but it was _something_. Something he couldn’t remember. Either because he couldn’t be bothered or her just...couldn’t, but at the moment he didn’t care.

 

The girl, who was currently grinding on him, had a smile just as blossed out as his was. She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a sloppy kiss while the other patrons hooted and hollered. They were just grateful for the show. It was only when he saw a familiar bespectacled face in the crowd that he jumped off the table.

 

“Combeferre!”  Grantaire smiled as Combeferre grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the crowd. Another person quickly took his spot on top of the bar as Combeferre manoeuvred him outside.

 

Bar patrons are so fickle.

 

“What’re you doing here?” Grantaire slurred.

 

“Grantaire none of us have seen you for the past eight days.” He smiled weakly. “We were worried.”

 

Grantaire smiled blankly. That's what he needed to remember. How long it's been since he was flying so high and so perfect. “M’fine.” He flung his arms around Combeferre’s neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. Combeferre pulled away, astonished and Grantaire frowned. “Do you not want me to kiss you?” And then realization dawned on his face. “You don’t like me.”

 

“Of course I like you Grantaire.” Combeferre’s hand still gripped Grantaire’s arm, as though he was afraid he’d fall down without this support. He wasn’t exactly wrong. “You’re one of my closest friends. One would even say I love you.”

 

“But you don’t want me to kiss you. M’sorry. I’ll try to remember.” Grantaire’s head lolled on Combeferre’s shoulder. “Don’t kiss Combeferre. Don’t kiss Combeferre. Don’t kiss. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t kiss Combeferrorororo.” Grantaire’s voice trailed off as he slumped against Combeferre’s taller frame.

 

* * *

 

 

When Grantaire came back to consciousness he was lying on a bed that was way too soft to be his own and wrapped up in a blanket that was way too comfortable to belong to him. So naturally he just grumbled and went back to sleep.

 

When he awoke again, two hours later, there was a small note on a post it at the side of the bed next to an asprin and a glass of water.  Grantaire sighed as he sat up slowly and just drank the water. He never got hungover anymore in any case.

 

_I have classes for most of the day, but I’ll be back before 3pm. Please stay. I need to talk to you. There’s food in the fridge and I left a towel and toothbrush out for you.  
-Combeferre_

 

 _Combeferre_. Well that made sense. Out of all his friends the only one who would be this purposely thoughtful would be Combeferre or perhaps Joly, but with Joly also comes the overanxious panicking which was adorable in most cases but definitely not welcome at the moment.

 

Grantaire briefly considered leaving, avoiding the obvious _intervention_ that was coming, but the minute he tried to stand up he sank back down on the bed in defeat. His bones ached with exhaustion. He’d been running on adrenaline for god knows how long and moving felt like a chore. One he wasn’t able to handle well. So he lay on Combeferre’s bed, and breathed slowly. He felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world, getting fucked out of his mind while his friends were all worried. Why the fuck did they even care about him in the first place? He was not anything to be bothered over, to care about, to love. He was nothing. He was honestly beginning to doubt the intelligence of the people closest to him. The way Bahorel or Bossuet would grin at him and pat him on the back when they saw he was down. The way Joly would constantly fret over every bruise Grantaire would come back with on his little escapades. The way Courfeyrac or Jehan would wrap their arms around him and whisper soothing words when they saw him at his worst, and accept it with grace when he told them to go away. The way Combeferre would make a point to ask him how he’s going every time he sees him. Even the way Enjolras would sometimes touch his shoulder when he was beginning to get too hyper, and softly tell him to be quiet. He didn’t deserve these people, these good, amazing people.

 

Of course they didn’t know what was really going on with him. They just thought he was a drunk. It was simpler that way.

 

He closed his eyes, trying to drown out these terrible thoughts and drifted into a restless sleep.

 

When he woke again Combeferre was standing at the door of his bedroom looking at him.

 

“Y’know looking at people while they sleep is creepy right?” he asked hoarsely.

 

“Well I hope you can forgive me being worried.” Combeferre replied with a hint of fond frustration. He hesitated a bit before sitting at the edge of his bed and gazing at Grantaire steadily.

 

“Dude I told you it’s weird when you do that.” Grantaire shrank back under the covers self consciously.

 

“I apologize.”

 

“No you can do what you want. It’s your bedroom. It’s your flat. I’m the unwelcome guest here.”

 

“You’re never unwelcome Grantaire.”

 

“Sure.” Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Okay can we get the ‘Grantaire you need to get help, you can’t keep doing this to yourself’ talk over with. I’m still really fucking tired.”

 

“That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” Combeferre looked at him curiously. “To be fair I suppose I am relieved that you’re aware that you need help.”

 

“I need a lot of things.” Grantaire mumbled, crossing his arms defensively.

 

“Last night, when you kissed me?” Combeferre started. Grantaire cringed at the memory. Why couldn’t he be the blackout drunk who didn’t remember anything the next day? “Does that happen a lot?”

 

“No. I have to say that _is_ the first time I’ve kissed you.”

 

“That’s not what I mean.” Combeferre exhaled. “I’ve never seen you so out of it before. Are you usually so... free with your affections when you’re in that state?”

 

“Jesus Christ. It’s not like I’m so out of it that I’m being taken advantage of or whatever it is you seem to think.”

 

“No.” Combeferre stated carefully. “But it’s not exactly 100% consensual either. How long have things been like this?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Grantaire kept his eyes stubbornly on his lap.

 

“You’re not okay. You haven’t been for a long time. We’ve all noticed. I think most of us just thought it was the alcohol, or that you were upset about something, or maybe we just didn’t want to look hard enough, but...you’re not okay.”

 

“This is the shittiest pep talk I’ve ever gotten.” Grantaire winced at the harshness of his own words. He knew Combeferre’s heart was in the right place. He knew he just wanted to help, but his hackles were raised and he didn’t know how to get them back down. “Look I just don’t want to talk about it okay.”

 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to...but...” He seemed to hesitate before he continued. “I just want you to know, I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Jehan, Feuilly...all of us. We’re your friends, and whatever this is, you don’t have to carry the burden on your own.”

 

Grantaire’s eyes welled up, but tears didn’t fall. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to let them fall. He finally looked up and smiled at Combeferre, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Yes I do.”

 

Combeferre stood up, and for a minute Grantaire thought he was going to leave. He panicked for a moment. He knew he wasn’t being receptive to the conversation, but something about it felt nice and warm.

 

Combeferre didn’t leave.

 

Instead he sat closer to Grantaire wrapped his arms around him and just held him.

 

“One day you’ll realize just how worth it you are.” Combeferre murmured in his ear.

 

Grantaire didn’t say anything. He didn’t even hug back; he just let himself be held. 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> -Again I just keep writing for ships no one actually cares about so it ends up feeling like I'm writing just for me, which I'm actually cool with.  
> -I feel like I warned for everything that was important in this fic, but if anyone needs me to tag anything else please tell me. Trigger warnings are very important.  
> -I based some of emotions here on personal experience, but I tried not to make it too heavy. Like so heavy that you couldn't read it properly.  
> -I don't think it's ever talked about enough, that sex happens sometimes when you're on a high and it has a lot of consent issues involved as you're never really in your right mind, so I wanted to touch on that for a bit.  
> -If you have any questions please feel free to ask. Comments and constructive criticism are both greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.


End file.
